


oh, how cold it is when you’re away

by Colourspaz



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Conventions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 08:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20963684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colourspaz/pseuds/Colourspaz
Summary: The gang goes to a convention and John can’t sleep.





	oh, how cold it is when you’re away

**Author's Note:**

> There’s one very, very brief mention of suicidal thoughts, please be careful
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

John’s sitting in an uncomfortable airport chair as he waits for Smitty to walk into the baggage claim so that they can finally check into the hotel. His eyes sweep over the crowds of people walking through the doors, all in various states of sleep-deprivation or un-coordinated outfits. 

Finally, he spots a mop of brown hair and a pink baseball cap through the crowd and once an overdressed businessman walks out of the way, he confirms that it’s his best friend. 

He gets up out of his seat and grabs his bags, walking towards Smitty with a grin. Smitty spots him and breaks into an equally large grin. Soon enough, they’ve met in a hug, greeting each other with excited warmth. 

“How’ve you been, bro?” Smitty asks, once they’ve pulled away and are walking out of the terminal. 

“Pretty good, my bro.” John replies. “You?” 

“Not too bad.” 

Their Uber pulls up and they load their luggage in the boot and then clamber in, already falling into an easy routine of joking and teasing. John makes sure to tip the driver a few extra bucks for putting up with them. 

As they check in to the hotel, talking about all the friends that they’re excited to see, Smitty brings up someone else. 

“Hey, how’s it going with Evan?” He asks, a teasing tone in his voice. John’s cheeks flush red at the mention of his boyfriend, and he grins. 

“It’s going good. It’s going very good.” John replies

“You two are the cutest goddamn couple, I swear.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

They continue to chat as they enter the hotel room, but all conversation is cut off when they both flop down onto their respective beds, exhausted from their travels. 

“We don’t have to go to anything today, right?” Smitty asks, voice partially muffled by the pillow. 

“Don’t think so. Nothing for the convention, I know that much.” John answers. 

“Good. I’m gonna sleep.” Smitty says, kicking off his shoes and throwing his backpack to the ground. John laughs softly and then mirrors Smitty by dumping his shoes and bag on the ground. 

He, too, tries to sleep, but something in his body makes him toss and turn until he eventually gives up and boots up his laptop. 

_I’ll get some sleep later. It’s only 4 pm. It’ll be fine._

_Right?_

~

Smitty wakes up around 7, and they text a few of their friends, getting updated on where they are or if they’ve even arrived in the city. 

Eventually, they decide to meet up with Brian, Tyler, Scott, Marcel, and Brock at some random restaurant. 

The night is jovial and pleasant and they all get at least a little buzzed, save for Brock, who, ever the dad friend, elects to be the “designated driver” of sorts. They return back to the hotel around midnight, where Smitty promptly dives back into his bed and passes out, snoring softly. 

John isn’t quite exhausted yet, so he grabs his laptop, heads into the bathroom, and sits up against the door as he boots up discord. The little green dot is showing on Evan’s profile, and he inadvertently smiles. He clicks the call button, and Evan accepts in seconds. 

“Hey, how’s the con going?” Evan asks. John can hear a smile in his voice. 

“Pretty good. Met Smit at the airport, hung out with Tyler and Brian and Brock and them.” John replies. 

“Nice. Let me guess: everyone got drunk?” Evan asks. 

John lets out a small laugh. “Not too drunk, but everyone had a beer or two. ‘Cept for Brock, he was too busy being the dad friend.” 

Evan laughs at this, and John’s heart does a little flip in his chest, because he just can’t get over how goddamn _cute_ his boyfriend is. 

“Let me guess, Smitty’s passed out already?” 

“Yeah, crashed the second we got back. He slept earlier too.” 

Evan laughs softly. “Nice. What time is it there, anyways?” 

“About 12:30.” 

“And what time do you have to be up in the morning?” 

“...7.” 

Evan sighs. “Joooohnnnnnnn…”

“Evaaaaannn.” John retorts. He gets a chuckle before Evan’s back into Good Boyfriend Mode. 

“You need to sleep, babe. You can’t live off of coffee and energy drinks.” 

“That’s what they want you to think.” John says, but he knows that Evan’s right. “But, okay.” 

“You’re going to sleep?” 

“Send me a photo of your adorable face and then I’ll sleep easy.” John says, grinning. Evan laughs, and then a moment later, John’s phone buzzes with a text. He opens the message to find a photo of Evan sitting in his office, leaning on one fist and grinning at the camera. 

“I love you.” John says, warmth and admiration seeping into his voice. 

“I love you too, John. Now get some sleep.” Evan says, his tone caring. 

“Will do. Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

The call ends, and John is left sitting on the bathroom floor, the room suddenly a lot colder and a lot quieter than it was a moment before. 

With a sigh, he shuts down his laptop and gets up off of the floor. He puts his laptop on the desk and changes into a pair of sleep pants and takes off his rings, and he climbs into bed with the intentions of sleep. 

He wants to sleep, he really does, but he tosses and turns like earlier. Despite his exhaustion, something is keeping him from going to sleep. 

Eventually he dozes off. He gets a few hours of fitful sleep, and when he wakes up in the morning, he’s shivering, despite having all of the covers on. 

~

He drinks two cups of coffee at breakfast and grabs a can of Monster for the road. The convention center is about half an hour away, and someone in their group has rented a van big enough for all of them. 

The convention passes in a blur, John riding on a high of excitement and caffeine. Near 1 pm, he starts crashing, so he cracks open the Monster and downs it in ten minutes. 

His hands shake. He plays with his rings to hide it. 

The convention day finishes at 5 pm, and the group decides to go out on the town. Smitty shoots John a concerned look when he agrees far too emphatically, but John pretends he doesn’t notice. 

They go from store to store to bar to store, a whirlwind of energy and excitement only fueled by energy drinks and alcohol. Eventually, they find a small hipster-looking cafe that's still open, and crash onto the various armchairs and couches. 

John's starting to crash again, and he orders chamomile tea in hopes of actually sleeping for more than three hours that night. He finishes the cup, and as they're walking back, he feels drowsy, tired; warmed by hot tea and the company of friends. 

They say their goodnights in the hotel lobby and all head up to their respective floors. John and Smitty are essentially holding each other up at this point, they're so tired. They stumble around the hotel room for a few minutes, getting changed and brushing teeth before collapsing onto their beds and crawling under the covers. 

John, remembering how cold he was last night, makes sure to put a hoodie and some warmer pants on. He does fall asleep soon enough, which he's glad about. 

He wakes up around four in the morning drenched in sweat, freezing cold, and his heart is pounding and his eyes are swimming and his breath is short and fuck _fuckfuckfuck he's about to have a panic attack-_

"John? You alright?" 

A sleepy mumble comes from the other side of the room. _Shit._ He woke up Smitty. He swallows thickly and tries to get his breath under control. 

"Yeah, I'm - I'm good. Just a bad dream." He answers, hoping it sounds convincing. A beat passes, and then he hears the shuffle of bedsheets and the sound of Smitty's feet on the floor. A few moments later, Smitty's sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of John. 

"You wanna talk about it?" 

"Smit, I'm fine, don't worry about it." John insists. 

“John…”

John sighs. "It was just a nightmare, dude, I don't want to bother you." 

"Well. If you're sure. But don't hesitate to wake me up if you need something, okay?" 

"...Okay. Thanks, Jay." John says, voice quiet. 

Smitty places a hand on his shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze before returning to his bed. 

John gets a feeling that he won't be able to get back to sleep anytime soon. He's wide awake and despite Smitty being a few feet away, he feels so _alone._ Maybe it's the aftereffects of his nightmare, or being in a hotel so far from home, or, hell, maybe it's sleeping alone after being so used to sleeping next to Evan. 

He shakes his head to clear his mind, and realizes that he’s still freezing cold and sweaty all over, so he gets up, grabs his phone and a change of clothes, and walks into the bathroom. As soon as the door is shut behind him, he leans on it, resting his forehead on the smooth wood. 

The lights are dim, and he shivers as he peels off his sweatshirt and turns on the tap in the bathtub. Soon, the tub is full of steaming water, and he pulls off the rest of his clothes and eases himself in. 

The knots in his back lessen, and he lets out a soft sigh. He sits for a few moments, letting his body relax, and then slowly picks up his phone from the bathroom floor. He opens discord, only to find all of his friend’s status’ as “offline” or “do not disturb.” Including Evan’s. Great. 

He exhales and pulls up Spotify, making sure the volume is low so as to not wake up Smitty. He clicks shuffle on his “somft vibes” playlist and lets his mind get lost in the warm water and comforting music. 

He gets out an hour later when the water is no longer warm and his playlist is done. It’s about 5 in the morning; his alarm is set for seven. With a sigh, (he seems to be doing that a lot that night,) he gets out of the tub, gets re-dressed, and drains the water. 

He doesn’t want to wake Smitty, so he stays there, sitting on the bathroom floor. His phone dies around 6 am. About ten minutes later, he gets up, opens the bathroom window, and sticks his head out. 

The morning air is cool on his face, and a small breeze blows his hair back. He inhales and exhales deeply, breathing in the fresh morning air. 

This is how Smitty finds him, head out the window and in an almost trance-like state, breathing in and out evenly. 

~ 

Breakfast is more coffee and bagels and cereal before they rush to the convention center in their rented van. John has two monsters and a five hour energy in his bag, and part of him hopes that he won’t have to drink them. 

He’s energetic as ever at their meet and greet, and signing things and taking selfies helps to hide the shaking of his hands. When the meet and greet ends and he still feels plenty energetic, he’s hopeful. 

The group decides to split up and go walk around the floor, checking out the different game booths and demos and even venturing into the Artist’s Alley. John goes along with Smitty and Tyler, whom they use as a crowd-splitter. The dude’s 6’5”. It’s fine. 

They make a stop first at the Fortnite booth, per Tyler’s insistence. John and Smitty dick around in one of the demos while Tyler chats with the devs and a few of the other fans. They get bored with the demo quickly, though, and Smitty gets the bright idea to nag Tyler until he stops talking. 

“Daaaad, we’re boooored!” Smitty fake-whines. 

“Daaaad, can we go?” John joins in, suppressing a laugh. 

“Daaaaad, we’re hungry!”

“Daaaaaad, can we go get lunch?”

“Daaaaaad, can we leave?”

“Daaaaaad, can we go to artists alley?” 

“Daaaaaad, can we-“ 

“Dear god, will you shut the hell up?” Tyler says, spinning around, but he’s smiling. 

“Daaaaad, that’s not very nice!” Smitty says, crossing his arms angrily. John copies him, and puts on a fake pout. Tyler looks away, trying not to laugh, and then sighs. 

“Jesus, you two are worse than Kino.” He mumbles, then turns and bids goodbye to the person he was talking to. 

“You said, like, seven different things, so where do you actually want to go?” Tyler asks as they walk away. 

“Artists alley?” John suggests, and Smitty nods. 

“Artists alley it is, then.” Tyler confirms. They start to push through the crowds of cosplayers and fans and other content creators, and Smitty only gets almost lost once. 

They run into a handful of fans; someone’s even in cosplay as the Milk Bag, with white-dyed hair, a propeller hat, and round glasses with one lens red and the other blue. They’re absolutely ecstatic to run into them, and they give hugs and take selfies before heading off. 

Once they make it out of Artist’s Alley, (after dragging John away from a jewelers stand because _goddamnit John, you do not need any more rings_-) they’re at a bit of an impasse on where to go. That is, until Smitty’s stomach lets out an impressive grumble and they laugh and decide to head out for some food. 

On the search for a place to eat, the caffeine in John’s system begins wearing off, and he trips over nothing more than once. He just blames it on the weirdly patterned carpet and pulls his sweatshirt tighter around himself. Tyler makes an offhand remark about how cold he looks, to which he can only laugh off. 

He hopes that neither Smitty nor Tyler notice how he practically chugs a Monster with his lunch. 

~

They meet back up with everyone else for their panel and swap a few stories - _“Brian spent all of lunch being all lovey-dovey on a call with Nogla!” - “Tyler spent forever at the Fortnite booth!” - “John almost spent $120 on a new ring!”_ \- before heading up and answering questions for two hours. 

Almost immediately after they walk off the stage, John downs the five hour energy in one quick gulp. 

As they’re walking out to the van, Smitty pulls him aside, a concerned look on his face. 

“John, are you good?”

“I’m just lovely, bro.” John says, forcing a smile. Smitty doesn’t buy it, and his brow only furrows more. 

“Are you sure? You keep practically inhaling caffeine and you look really cold.” Smitty says, going so far as to place his hand on John’s forehead. 

“I told you, _Mom_, I’m fine.” John says, tone light and joking. 

Smitty sighs. “John…” 

“I’ll be alright, Jay.” 

Smitty purses his lips, but leaves it and runs to catch up with everybody else, John hot on his heels. 

~

John stumbles and nearly collapses walking through the door of their hotel room, nearly knocking over Smitty. 

“Holy fu - John!” Smitty says, regaining his balance and grabbing John under the arms. “Are you okay?” 

John can only nod. His head is pounding and his throat is bone-dry. 

“Sure you are. Sit down on the bed, I’m getting you some water.” Smitty insists. He pulls a cold bottle out of the minifridge and hands it to John, who unscrews the cap with some difficulty; his hands won’t stop shaking and his grip is weak. He gulps down half of the bottle in one swig, relishing the relief it brings his parched throat. 

Once the cap is back on and the bottle’s at his side, Smitty sits on the other bed, directly across from him. 

“What’s going on, dude? You know I won’t judge you.” 

“...I haven’t really been...sleeping.” John answers, his voice quiet. 

“How many hours are you running on?”

“About seven since we’ve arrived. I think.” 

“Seven h - John, we’ve been here for almost five days!” Smitty says. “Is this something to do with this trip or has this been going on for longer?” 

“...Longer. It’s not been this bad, though.”

“Do you have any idea why it’s happening?”

“...I don’t think so.” 

Smitty raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you sure?”

“I have a guess, but it’s stupid. It’s nothing to worry about.” 

“John Keyes, you are my best goddamn friend and I’m going to worry about you no matter what. I’m asking because I want you to be okay; so that you can actually function!” Smitty says, raising his voice and throwing his hands in the air. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. But I do care about you. I don’t care if it sounds like a stupid reas-”

“The bed’s too cold, okay?! I’m used to sleeping next to Evan, and he’s a human furnace, and without him, the bed’s too cold.” 

Smitty is quiet. 

“And I know how pathetic that sounds, but it’s true. I m-“ John is cut off by a shuddering breath, trying to keep his voice calm. “I miss him. He did - does - so much good for my mental health and I haven’t been talking to him even though I should and I’m a bad boyfriend but I know he’s working on his music and he probably doesn’t want to be bothered and-“ 

John’s close to hyperventilating now, and his eyes are swimming with tears. 

“I haven’t properly talked to him; had a conversation that wasn’t through a screen in nearly a month. I’ve been working myself to the goddamned bone with recording and editing and he’s been working on music and we would normally see each other when we sleep but neither of us sleep at the usual time and he sleeps in his studio and I sleep in my office or on the goddamned couch and he probably doesn’t even love me anymore he probably never even-“ 

John’s crying freely now, tears spilling over that he makes no move to wipe away. Smitty gets up and wraps his arms around John in a comforting embrace. John returns it, letting his tears soak into Smitty’s sweatshirt. 

“John, listen. You’re not a bad boyfriend, or a bad person. I promise. I've seen how Evan looks at you when you’re not looking at him, and oh my god, you can just tell how much he fucking loves you. He’s so gone for you it’s not even funny.” 

John chuckles wetly, muffled by Smitty's sweatshirt. "Really?"

Smitty smiles. "Really." 

John stays there for another moment or two, then exhales deeply and sits back. 

"Thanks, man. For everything."

"Of course. Anytime, you know that." Smitty replies, moving away. 

They fall into a comfortable silence as they move around the room, changing into sleep clothes and packing what they can for their flights tomorrow. 

Smitty finally breaks the silence by asking "Are you going to talk to Evan about this?" 

The question catches John off guard, and he pauses in folding up his clothes. Slowly, he puts down the shirt in his hands and turns to Smitty. 

"I don't know." He answers honestly. 

"You should. At the very least, talk to him about missing him and not being able to sleep. Communication, y'know?" 

"Yeah. I'll do that, at the very least." 

That night, John sleeps for only as long as he had the past few days, but his dreams are calm and peaceful and he's not shivering as bad when he wakes up.

~

He has a text from Evan when he wakes up. 

**Evan:** i cant wait for u to get homeee

**Evan:** I miss u

John lets out a soft chuckle, unlocking his phone to type a reply. 

**John:** promise youll be waiting at the terminal when i get there

His response is almost instant.

**Evan:** promise 

John smiles and gets out of bed, eager to get the hell home. 

~

Smitty's flight is before his, so John walks to the gate with him and makes sure to hug him extra tight. 

"Take care, okay?" John says when they part.

"Will do."

"Say hi to Octavia for me."

That gets a laugh out of Smitty. 

"Will also do." 

Then he turns, is walking down the boarding tunnel, and is gone. 

~

John's flight is an hour later, so he busies himself by sitting in the waiting area by his gate and looking at rings online. One catches his eye that he thinks would look good on Evan. He makes sure to bookmark that one for later. 

The whole flight, he can't seem to stop fidgeting; playing with his rings, tapping his fingers, bouncing his leg; his nerves seem to be getting the better of him. 

Finally, _finally,_ the plane touches down and the doors open. John nearly flies out of his seat and pushes himself as far as he can to the front, much to the other passengers' annoyance. He eagerly walks out of the gate and towards the stairs leading to the baggage claim, taking them as fast as he can. 

His heart almost stops when he spots long black hair and a bright green sweatshirt. He starts heading in that direction as fast as his legs will go. 

Evan turns when he hears footsteps, and he only sees John’s face for a split second before he’s collapsing into Evan’s arms, hugging him tight. Evan lets out a surprised laugh but instantly hugs him back equally as tight. 

They stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, and everything feels, for once, okay. 

“I missed you.” John says into the side of Evan’s head. 

“I missed you, too.” Evan replies. 

And for the first time in weeks, John feels truly warm. 

~

The drive home is short, and the second that Evan closes the door behind him, John has a hand on his jaw and is kissing him, moving so that Evan’s pressed up against the door. 

“Where - holy shit - where’s all this coming from?” Evan asks between kisses. 

“I missed you.” John replies simply. Evan laughs and lets himself be pulled into another kiss. 

Later, when they’re both cuddled as close as can be on the couch, watching some mindless show, John decides to speak up. 

“Hey, Ev?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you about something?” 

Evan shifts from where he’s lying on John’s chest to look him in the face. 

“Of course, anything.” 

“Do you feel like…we kind of drifted apart over the last month? I’ve always been recording and editing and you’ve always been in the studio and...and I feel like we hardly see each other.”

Evan is silent as he processes. 

“I think you’re right.” 

John isn't quite sure what to say.

He settles for a quiet "I'm sorry." 

"What for?" 

"...Being a bad boyfriend. For not bringing this up sooner."

Evan's response is almost instant. 

"You're not a bad boyfriend." 

"..."

"John, hey. Look at me. You're not a bad boyfriend. You're absolutely amazing. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts me sometimes. I don't even want to think about what my life would be like without you." 

John's eyes are welling up, and he reaches his hand up to scrub at them as Evan continues. 

"You're the light of my goddamned life, John Keyes. I love you." 

John's given up on not crying, letting the tears fall. He's smiling, though. 

"Evan, I…_fuck_." John says, laughing softly through his tears. "I love you too. You do so much good for my mental health, Ev, you really do. There's been times where I wanted to...to go to sleep and never wake up and then you'd be there and I wanted to do nothing but _live_." 

They're both crying now, emotion getting the better of them. With shaky hands, John reaches up and holds Evan's face in his hands, wiping away tears with his thumbs. 

"I love you." 

"I love you, too." 

There, on the couch, they share a kiss. It's nothing special, a little wet from tears and a little breathless, but it's the sweetest kiss they've shared in a long time. 

They break apart when John yawns, his body reminding him how little sleep he's running on. Evan laughs softly and slowly runs his fingers through John's hair. 

"How did you sleep, by the way? I meant to ask earlier." 

John has to laugh. "Funny you should ask." 

Evan raises an eyebrow. "What does _that_ mean?"

"I slept like shit." 

"Why?"

"Because the bed's too cold and too empty without you." 

Evan blinks, taking it in. 

"I - really? God, I'm sorry, babe." 

John shrugs. 

"It's okay. I got by." 

"...Let me guess, that translates to 'I got less than 8 hours of sleep the whole time and lived off of caffeine?'"

"...Maybe?" 

Evan sighs, shifting so that he can stand up. 

"Yeah, time for bed, then," he says, pulling on John's arm. John sighs but sits up and lets Evan pull him towards the bedroom. John collapses onto the bed instantly, getting a laugh from Evan. 

John manages to pull off his boots and his jeans and toss his jacket to the side before crawling under the covers, where he's soon joined by Evan, whom he pulls close. 

The covers are warm and the love of his life is in his arms, and for once, finally, 

John sleeps.

**Author's Note:**

> We all need some fluff and hurt/comfort in our lives, don’t we?
> 
> Come visit my tumblr Colourspaz anytime or whatever

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Insomnolence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151190) by [VenetaPsi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenetaPsi/pseuds/VenetaPsi)


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